"I've tried writing a book," she exhaled, "but I've never quite gotten to finishing it."
The man behind the desk nodded, scribbling something down in his expensively bound leather notebook before looking back up at her.
"And why do you think that is?"
"What is?"
"Your inability to finish things you start."
Her mouth opened in surprise, taken aback by the question.
"It's not like I leave
everything
I start halfway through..."
He nodded again, muttering something under his breath and scribbling away. He then stood up, holding out his hand.
"Thank you for your time, Miss Rogers. I think I have everything I need."
Jenna was on her feet in no time, well aware that like the others, this session had been a sinking ship since the moment she walked into Mr. Brown's 20
th
story office. She politely shook his hand, gathered her things and walked out the door of Ice Publications, probably never to return.
~
He watched her pack her things with the same keen eyes that he watched her with when she walked in. "Jenna Rogers," he thought to himself, "has one amazing body."
She leaned over his desk when he handed her her portfolio, her ample breasts straining the buttons of her shirt. It didn't help the poor satin thing that she wore her shirts a size too small, something he had noticed whenever he saw her in the hallway, as she was working her way up to the coveted interview with the CEO.
Her pencil skirt was just long enough to be called decent, but it rode up her thighs when she sat, leaving him with nothing to complain about as a man, and the growing discomfort in his pants was testament to that.
But as a boss, boy was she disappointing.
William was sure to walk her to the door, being the gentleman that he was, taking the opportunity to check her out from the back. Her hair cascaded down to the small of her back, the flow of curves picked right back up by her ass. No wonder her skirt was acting up.
The sound of her heels was muffled by a carpet that had muffled much else, but the way they made her calves look made it more than obvious that she took time out to work out, and that made him happier.
As he closed the door and headed back to his desk, his eyes glossed over the emails his juniors are written him, detailing what a wonderful candidate Ms. Rogers was for the position they were considering her for. One email even said, very boldly, "Her assurance in her talents and abilities is just the right amount of smug, far below the borderline of overconfidence."
All the employees spoke so highly of this woman that it confused him. This could not be the woman that walked into his office today. That woman was nervous and flustered, and completely unfit to be bossing people around.
He clicked the attached copy of her portfolio.
Assistant to Inaya Langford at 'Talk of the Town'.
Inaya? William scoffed.
He shut his laptop down, and picking up his phone, he stepped out the door.
~
The driver was cursing the car in front of theirs, and the car in front of that one, and the car in front of that one. Jenna was cursing him. She knew they should've taken the highway, and despite making it abundantly clear that he should listen to her, there they were, stuck in an endless queue of traffic.
It surprised her how quick she was to recover from the calamity of an interview that she has just given, snapping back into her outspoken self, mere moments later. She didn't know what changed when she walked into Mr. Brown's office, and if it was the coldness of the office space that chilled her to the bones, or his gaze.
From the moment she walked in his door, he looked at her in a way that made her afraid of him, in a way. He was detached and to the point, power just flowing out of him, and that intimidated her to her breaking point, and even after all the late-night preparation, all that was left of her was a flustered mess.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath.
"Nobody said you have to sit through it. I have hearing aids, and I can hear everything but your thoughts. No need to call names, so get out before I kick you out."
The cabbie suddenly thought his opinion mattered.